Long Black history Poems
Long Black history Poems. Below are the most popular long Black history by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Black history poems by poem length and keyword.
They were hated, berated, and degraded They were demoted, denied, and deprived
They were traded like livestock and treated worst than animals They were a people detained, renamed, and reduced to property
They were displaced, disgraced, disrespected, and disenfranchised They were captured, chained, and maimed; battered, beaten, and bruised
If we were one of them, how would we feel? How would we deal?
How would we heal? How would we then live?
I am saddened by their slavery, but I am inspired by their bravery. When I pause, I discover the magic of a mystery.
I clearly see virtues hidden in their tragic history. I am touched when I sense a 'virtue in their vision'.
They knew that, even if erased without a trace, they had a past. They experienced sorrow but managed the madness of their present.
Me think that their "Tomorrow in the distance" launched their untouchable souls. Though bowed and broken, they visualized tomorrow and paid the
painful toll. Me think that they saw a vision of me in the distant future living happy and free. Me think that they decried the mirrors that painted their
darkened spirit and defied the demons of misery. How else could they have survived their dehumanized plight and thrived as enslaved human beings?
Written061807; Condensed and posted to PS 02262018
Black History Month 2018
It amazes me
They say all men were created equally
But that’s denied throughout history
Theirs starts with constitutions revolutions and bravery
They tell us ours is gangs chains and slavery
It’s pretentious
And I’m offended
You started the race just so you could win it
And they did…well they did
Until we realized that an eagle can’t be judge by its ability to be a pig
False metrics
A ruler being held by media outlets rendering our image helpless
They narrate that our great minds are bipolar, out of order or just selfish
Encourage us to swallow your dreams
Beat our women , eat our young and wash it down with the tiniest sips from their revenue stream
And we say nah
Trick no good
Ms Maya Angelo knew
Sojourner too cause Rosa didn’t move so Mlk can spread the truth
I’m not the smartest man on earth but if I wanna change how history looks
The first thing ima change is what’s explained in our history…books
Long live Babylon America the great its the M night Shyamalan planet of the Apes
Long live Babylon America the great its the M night Shyamalan planet of the Apes
Here’s the plan it’s no secret raise your hand and give the answer I agree with
Concentration of Indoctrination now we consider him a genius
Don’t let him look into why Malcolm X wanted to separate
Keep him chasing his tail in circles as we continue to legislate
Tell the only ones that’s special are the ones that did something first
Ignore the names of those that change what was broke but now works
You know what’ll really knock ‘em out of competition?!
Tell ‘em their role models are ball players and musicians
Let’s assassinate all they’re leaders and complain they’re all directionless
Police Kill off they’re strong men n women even though they are weaponless
But keep the freaks in the sheets cuz they women are the sexiest
Add dope to their communities break down the family structure
So it’s really sister Vs sister and brother Vs brother
Father out the home is more pressure for the mother
Strong and independent makes her think a pb and j can be jelly without peanut butter
So what makes you think I want a calendar with 28 days
With 28 names
Of 28 slaves
Lead to 28 graves? I think …..We’d rather have our 40 acres…
'Just get over it'
No we still haven't received reparations
And they are long overdue
Why would we get over it
When you prance around wearing bags made of our skin
Sitting your privileged self's on chairs oh so familiar
The fabric - our skin
But you'll never know
You'll never care
Because of your ignorance
Because what you don't know won't hurt you
But a little secret, I promise you it hurt us
Can't you hear the echoes of our ancestors
Or is your inability to basic human emotions
Cause you to go deaf in both of your ears
'Just get over it'
No how about you don't deny our history's existence
How about you stop going on the defence
Everytime you hear about the black experience
Why would we get over it
When it slaps us in the face
Every single day
Through the blood stained pavements
From segregation to alienation
Through the changing of weapons
Long gone are the harsh echoes of the whips
Is now the sharp bang of a gunshot
Going from personal torture
To cowardly killings
'Just get over it'
How can we
When everyday we carry the scars of our ancestors
And you carry the evil spirit of your ancestors
How are we supposed to walk the streets
Where public lynchings was free entertainment
Because no matter how hard you try to erase
The echoes of violence still linger
And the weight of generational trauma clings to a world we built
'Just get over it'
You may have drowned our cities
And set fire to our towns
But one thing remains known
Is how you'll never silence our screams
How can we get over it
When the rope Hangs from the trees
When segregation is over yet the ice in your eyes make known we are unwelcome
How sundown towns still exist with the same outcome
Where every ship is haunted by the fear
Our people faced
Drowning in the eerie thoughts of what's to come
When black history month
Reminds that nothing has really changed
The only difference is the rules of game they made
And the changing of the games name
You claim we are stuck in the past
But we are still living in it
How can we forget
When there's constant reminders
Hiding in every corner
Where every shadow leads to another piece of trauma
That reminds black is not just a colour
She flinches, shudders as chains tug at her flesh
The ruthless slave trader and rapist whispers to the auctioneer
And instinctively she knows that it is her turn to be sold.
The noise heightens, her eyes focus on a kind face in the crowd.
A well dressed man with a curly mustache wearing a black a top hat
His expensive suit quite obvious as he moves deliberately through the crowd
He approaches the platform and takes the slave trader aside
As the bidders become raucous, jostling and argument ensue
Her eyes trail the well dressed man with the curly mustache
As he haggles with the ruthless slave trader
Again, looking up towards the sky once more, she day dreams
Her Mama had been sold some time ago, never to be seen again.
And as she recalls the soft murmuring words of comfort
Tears fall easily from ebony eyes rolling down her face.
Then she heard a voice whisper, “Don’t cry.” “Don’t cry, Heddie”.
I am here. I am with you. And wherever you go, I will go with you.
The road will be treacherous and mighty long. This road will be hard, the
Journey, long. Yet you will be resilient. You will endure and you will be strong!
Today, I bring you a gift for all your days and beyond. The gift of song!
May your soul find rest when you sing. In joy or sorrow, trials and trouble, worship
And praise, you will sing and your spirit will ascend to God’s throne of grace.”
In that moment the chains that shackled hands and feet fell loudly onto the block
(That was the beginning of a new life for Heddie. The well dressed man with
The kind eyes rescued Heddie and the others that day. As the story about her great
Grand mother is told to her grandchildren sitting at her feet, they all realize that the blessing
which was given eons ago as Heddie stood on the auction block at twelve had been passed
forward to the present generation. They are the descendants of Heddie and the well dressed
gentleman who had moved to upstate New York where he married Heddie and gave the
slaves their freedom.)
This is written in celebration of "Black History" Month and in collaboration with Jimmy
Matthew Anderson
Form:
this just one example of many peoples
UNFAIRLY subjected
to subservience and exempt
from enjoying the fruits of their labor.
January twelfth two thousand and ten
(original date this communique writ then
kept wedged where in no wise
bore visual witness
vis a vis near annihilation and destruction
of African, Haitian, South American, et cetera nations
whereby countless/ nameless individuals
e’en the strongest Herculean type men
crushed by humungous slabs of
building facades practically
demolishing every creation
since this island settled, which
indigenous tribes sought safety
page number 3
in any geologic den
seeking solace and salvation
from wrath of nature
by paying obeisance via oblation
perhaps giving credence to clear water
in tandem with rooster and hen
that laid a golden egg and chicken thing, especially
as encroaching savages affected violation
particularly when Europeans
foisted forfeiture of land
with primitive implement like pen
no matter that travesty, trickery, mockery,
et cetera wrought humiliation
pleading invaders to forsake
such actions that rent asunder
culture beseeched god when
these brutish, nasty
and (shortish) Hobbesian simians
to cease desecration
yet the peoples of this dominion rose
from the ashes like the phoenix like bird
no mattered genetic pool underwent
white washing from scouring influx
from western thumping proselytizers,
which alien beliefs hard to swallow like curd
basically bribery (with lustrous trinkets)
ah those coveted legal tender
upon emancipation proclamation cessation
to sell men, women and for x amount of bucks
akin to the soundcloud winged fowl clucks
foisted/ forced the unpleasant alternative
(wanton slaughter) to be clearly heard
yet within the very fiber of tropical
man grove persons patiently lined up their ducks
and declared as one of the first
African American peoples
INDEPENDENCE to be the word
whence adulation, elation, inspiration echoing
across ramshackle greensward.
Now this poem right here is going to change a man/
This is going to stretch out like elastic bands/
From Dallas to Indiana to Alaska man/
This is going to go down in black history man/
See we rap about guns violence and sex tapes/
Older brother’s that take young girls and still rape/
What happen to our pride and our self-esteem/
What happen to our passion and our wildest dreams/
What ever it was, it was down right sorry/
We rather postpone leadership to buy a Ferrari/
And a lot of our young girls are wearing make-up/
And a lot of our young brothers sell drugs to purchase
Jacobs/
And that’s the same fellow who forgot his latex/
Now his girl got AIDS and not mention she pregnant/
Now her brother is mad and he’s ready to cap (shoot) him/
But that’s why I’m here for, for words of inspiration/
Now the girl is doing fine but she had sex before marriage/
But the baby couldn’t make it so she had a miscarriage/
Now she so depressed, she’s headed for drugs from needles,
To crack pipes trying to find that love/
All in the wrong places the devil in different faces/
She’s stripping at strip clubs, for tips so she can make it/
And the brother who got her pregnant he’s just sitting back and
Laughing and/
Got gassed (shot) a couple weeks ago for drug trafficking/
Yeah, see he paid the price/
Took God’s gift for granted the gift of life/
Now getting back to the girl she’s happy her man gone/
She used to be dark skin, but he beat her bad, now she’s
Redbone/
Her hair’s grown/
Back from wearing he use to snatch it out/
And on top of that kicked her out her own house/
So she had enough one day/
And pulled out his AK (gun)/
And said “The day you touch me again, you’ll die the same day”/
But that was before he died, and she’s making it now and/
Got her master’s degree and she’s making a hundred thousand/
Dollars each year, and daily she prays/
Pays five grand on medicine because she still has AIDS/
And I wish the poem could end, but it’s sad to say/
Of what happen to this girl still goes on and happens today/
Form:
I am going to write a funny poem
Why? Because I feel like it
Why do you go the extra mile?
Great waistline my friend
C'mon
I love watching "Impractical Jokers"
Why? They are so outrageous and daring
Something I wouldn't do
Not lol
How would you like it if everything you say
makes people laugh?
I don't think you would enjoy it
Because you don't know if they laugh with you
Or at you
I am a couch potato
Is anyone like me?
I don't want to do nothing
I just want to sit on my recliner and chill
Until I get my fill
I just can't get over how funny God is
He makes some of us like dark meat
and some of us like white meat
I am talking about chicken, mind you
Just think how wasteful it would be if all of us like dark meat
Or white meat
This way nothing goes wasted
Why do you think I am attracted to you?
God my friend
He puts something in you that causes something in me pulled lol
Yeah He has a sense of humor
I can sit here all day and talk about how funny God is
Why do you think some birds think of dancing for their mates?
Do you think it can just think of it?
Or do you think God is behind it?
Yeah you too
You would dance for your mate if you have a chance
And make a fool out of yourself
You don't care
Because it's called love
Ohhh
I could swear they put something in my Coke
Why do you think I have to have a Coke each day
Yeah it's no good
It's addicting
I think it's the sugar
Or the caffeine
Whatever it is, it is pulling me
to McDonald's
Got to stay away from that place
I am becoming a kid all over again
We had a celebration at work
to celebrate "Black History"
I am telling you
I admire the achievements they have done
and know they may have more to come
Just think how many obstacles they have overcome
Can you do it?
Talk about resilience
Endurance, strength, and so much more
Don't let the stereotype blinds you
See my friend
You look better that way
Anyway I will leave you for now
But hang on to my words, will ya
You'll need it
Haha
though I yam Caucasian,
tis rightful to honor that most bitter
racist genocidal crime
nonetheless ovation qua
quintessential significant contribution
vis a vis that doth litter
anonymous multitudinous peoples
many unknown dark skinned souls
bravely fought as non quitter
with melanin so coon sitter
this asthma feeble attempt
made to mind of literate
parent, guardian or sitter
adorn aye rhythmically twitter
to *****Sapiens with Negroid color
who, despite being human bondage
managed to adorn
worthy contributions to society,
though an American (though not so proud)
and civilization since time immemorial
hence, I wanna pay poetic homage
to persons born
akin to diversity exemplifying gamut
analogous to Indian corn
debased brutally and forlorn
and raised in cornucopia horn
of plenty with rare serf tenderness
whipped by wicked task masters
from the crack of morn,
aye cannot fathom why
a great proportion of humanity
must struggle on scraps of subsistence
viz with fifty plus shades of chocolate
vile shamefully opprobrious sworn
vengeance toward those
via heroic efforts escaped,
page number 2
manacled, tortured, et cetera history
as slaves an existence
until...pacified family dislocated
sans rent asunder, ripped and torn.
Once a proud family akin to Brady
bunch, now brutally, nasty
and short lived poorly destitute
(case in point) like Haiti -
once a nation extant with cultural finery
insidiously raped "Lady"
lacerated odiously robbing
unique peoples as owners didst slay
practically naked "Primates"
encaged like wild animals in zoos
culturally robbed while
abhorrently marched in ones and twos
shredded souls without shoes
(analogous to persecuted Jews)
of singular ambition to break shackles
though tightly fused
to life as they chose.
Reasons
Sometimes we think,
Sometimes we drink!
Sometimes our mind,
Is lost in liquor or wine!
The trouble between both black and white,
Is that each see their view as right!
Let's work together for a single master,
Instead of fighting, which ends in disaster!
We could try annihilation of others,
But I ask you, who would go first!
With so much deviance in our behavior,
The human race is quickly becoming a disgrace!
With more and more conflict, prejudice, and discrimination,
What is becoming of our so-called wonderful nation!
It is not too late for us to live in assimilation,
But the longer it is put off, this leads to disorganized nations!
All of us have God-give rights,
Why can't we live together, peacefully & quiet?
Let's all work together and end this vicious cycle,
Let's stop xenophobia, before it destroys us!!!
Written at the University of Arkansas in 1992 for Black History Month, among others, honoring the continued work of my colleague Mrs. Sandra Dupree, who married now Mrs. Sandra Goodwin, I have her letter from 3.26.02. If any questions of my wisdom, Texas continues to dishonor by not allowing to teach as of today two years after www.texasteachers.com 12.5.16 assured employment, she was highly appreciative of utilizing, when at the University of Arkansas with our Challenged Conquistadors, Inc., which many in Texas feels I am a fraud, phony, fake, etc., since not allowed to speak about Harvard University referenced wisdom, since 1997 obtained from the University of Arkansas? As Sergeant at Arms, and National Science Teachers Association member #20039, the Beaumont Library has stated I am a bully, Kinsel Motors a nuisance, Wal Mart & Star Bowl affirm bully, fake, fraud, etc.
The Beaumont Better Business Bureau has all the documentation since 12.22.17, when honesty was affirmed by Dr. Senthilkumar, MD, 409-838-4338, witnessed by Bro. Steve Buser 409-651-8778.
If slavery was a choice, as some have agreed, then what are we?
If watching your father and mother endure rape or murder was a choice,
Then why do we sit on idle hands, while Trump eradicates our posterity’s opportunities,
As if they were written in sand?
If not being able to read was a choice,
Then why do you go to the PlayStation in a rush
while your library card collects dust?
Even a Ward educates themselves,
Even the eunuch Greyjoy developed the courage to stand against evil.
In the midst of upheaval, one mustn’t look through a straw while planning the future.
The sagacious knows fighting must be eschewed when only death is in thy terms.
Allah heard their suffering, but sometimes the way out is through.
They didn’t endure out of docility or obsequiousness,
But out of discernment and sagacity.
The desolate doesn’t become prosperous by exclaiming tumultuous absurdities,
But by embodying opulent minds.
Go back to the mother, which is the way, and endure the storm,
While being metamorphic in form.
You see, my Kings and Queens,
The only choice they made was to give their posterity a fighting chance,
To gather strength while the usurpers wane and start to underestimate.
We must pick up the quill and write our own fates,
No more brooding or carping about what Donny Thrump is doing.
One man’s decisions determine another man’s life,
As much as a drought challenges the land.
Yet, life, like the Way, will always find a path to flourish,
Forevermore permeating even the harshest conditions.
We must stop talking about what great leaders and men should be,
And become Great Men and Assiduous Leaders.
We were the first great civilization and shall act as such.
Lead with grace,
Strike with prudence,
Read great books that enrich the mind,
Treat each other with unyielding reverence,
Because we each carry a piece of the divine.
I am that I am, and I am my brother's keeper.